For the love of your kids – cut open your juice boxes! -A Reblog-

For the love of your kids – cut open your juice boxes!.

I want to share this with anyone who might read my blog. I find this to be incredibly gross. Its playing on my anxiety pretty intensely right now since I was JUST giving the boys Oasis Juice Boxes on our drive out to Winnipeg last week. On our way home, I am buying the more expensive clear bottle juices and I will take the risk of wearing the juice when I am pouring it while we are driving. I would rather wear their juice then have them consume mold. Thanks so much to How to Ruin a Toddler’s Day for sharing this. Also, check out her blog if you want a good laugh! I look forward to her posts!

Love, hugs and more to come later


Mommy Wars… WHY?!?

Recently I noticed that there is a lot of attention on Kate Middleton and her pregnancy and her impending birth. And I mean really, why not. It’s a pretty big deal. That baby is the potential heir to the throne. Obviously there is going to be some interest. BUT I have a problem with the things we seem to be taking an interest in. I totally see the curiosity of whether the baby is going to be a boy or a girl. And what names they may be considering.  But.  What gives us the right to even care if she is planning a c-section or a natural birth? Why should it matter to us who she is planning on having in the room with her?  How does it affect any of us that she is choosing to stay with her mom for a few weeks after having the baby instead of residing in royal residence and isn’t hiring a maternity nurse? I seen some comments criticizing the fact she (and other people in high places) hand pick their Drs and the nurses that attend their birth. Seriously. You don’t understand why they might be particular about who is attending their birth? I would be too if I was worried about who might sell the story to the highest bidder.

The one that gets to me the most though. Is this one. In the last paragraph, the writer states that we need the Duchess to breastfeed. Really? We NEED her to breastfeed? And more then that, we NEED her to be willing to have her pictures taken while she feeds her baby so that the world is more likely to breastfeed? WHY ARE WE SPENDING SO MUCH TIME JUDGING ONE ANOTHER OVER OUR CHOICES?? Why can’t we leave this woman to make her own choices based on what is best for her and her baby? Maybe  she is perfectly okay with breastfeeding but she isn’t comfortable whipping out her ‘royal orbs’ for someone to take a picture of her to show off to the world. And why the hell should we expect her too? Maybe she isn’t on board with the whole idea of breastfeeding in general. Maybe, like so many other women she is going to choose to formula feed right from day one. Maybe she is going to try to breastfeed and it just isn’t going to work out for her, for one of a million reasons. Who the hell are we to judge her for that?? Why should any of us even CARE as long as the baby is healthy and taken care of? Are we also going to start watching to see if and when her child is vaccinated? Or whether she co sleeps? Baby wears? Has her son circumcised? Pierces her daughters ears? Uses the CIO method? Spanks? Uses time outs? Has her babies far apart? Close together? Uses cloth diapers? Disposables? Pumps? The list goes on and on.

It’s not just in the case of  Kate Middleton and other famous people. I see the judgement everywhere. I made my choices that were best for my family and I. I formula fed. I co slept with Alex until he was 2. Nick has slept on his own since birth with the exception of maybe 10 occasions where he was in my bed. Zoey is about 50/50 in her bed and in mine. I hardly baby wore the boys. I babywear Zoey all the time. It works better for me to be able to hold her and have my hands free for the boys. I used the CIO method with Alex. I never used it with Nick. Or Zoey. I pureed all of Alex’s baby food for him from 4 months old. Nick started eating chunks of food at about 7 months old and skipped purees all together.  The list goes on.  My point, is EVERY SINGLE CHILD IS DIFFERENT. As is every Momma. It’s time for us to realize this and instead of judging Momma’s for doing things differently than we do, embrace the diversity that we have as mothers and offer advice and education without criticizing the choice or the outcome. Just because something works for you, doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone. Let’s encourage each other as moms. We all started this journey having no experience, and we are all learning as we go. Slapping pictures of Kate Middleton breastfeeding the royal baby all over the place isn’t going to affect the number of women who successfully breastfeed. Maybe more women would if there was more education on it, but at the end of the day, there are a lot of healthy babies out there who weren’t breastfed, and a lot of healthy ones who were breastfed. I hate the saying Breast is Best. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. But we should all be encouraged to do what feels right, not guilted into sticking with something that isn’t working out the way it should because society says it’s the best thing to do.


Love, hugs and more to come later.



Growing up, I was always told that sleep is important. I needed to go to bed early so I would have the energy to get through the next day. Growing up and early into adulthood, anytime I was tired I would go to bed early, sleep late, nap and essentially do anything I needed to in order to not feel tired. I didn’t need coffee to wake me up/keep me awake/give me the caffeine boost to get through the day effectively.

Fast forward to today. Today I am currently on my second cup of coffee (its 130 in the afternoon, so it’s not that bad!) Today I am lucky if I sleep for 3 hours without one of the kids waking me up. Today I am lucky if I spend a total of 6 hours in my bed on any given night. Going to bed at 1130pm is early for me. Getting up at 7am is sleeping in. Today I have a trio of monsters who like to take turns getting up all night. (Normally, one of them will sleep amazingly through the night while the other two keep us up on and off) 

I will admit, that right now, I am tired and it is my own doing. I wanted to drive halfway across the country to visit family. And I am the one who chooses not to drive, leaving the 40 hour drive to hubs to do. And in exchange I get up with the kids all night for a few days before we leave, while we are travelling, and for a few days after the fact. But, now we are in Winnipeg, the drive is done. And I am tired. 

Right now I just want to sleep. Sleep until I can’t sleep anymore. And then sleep just a little bit longer so I am ready to tackle this Momma-hood thing again. Because, right now, I just don’t know how I am going to make it through another hour, let alone the 7 hours until bedtime. Coffee just isn’t cutting it today. Image


Love, hugs and more to come later


Helloooo Anxiety!

So I am sitting here on the couch while hubs puts the kids to bed and Zoey sleeps about 3 feet from me, thinking about doing laundry and I can feel my anxiety levels rising. Sounds kind of silly that my anxiety is rising over laundry, but let me finish and it will all (with any  luck) be clear that it’s not the laundry making me anxious, it’s the sorting and getting rid of stuff that is.

Zoey is officially out of her newborn sized clothes. And into 0-3 month sizes. So while I am folding laundry, all of her NB stuff is going into a box to be dropped off at a friend’s house tomorrow. Her stuff is going to a good home, I am not worried about it being taken care of. There is really no sentimental attachment to any of it. Most of it she only wore once. But. It means I am never going to dress any of my babies in those itty bitty clothes again 😥 (I don’t know if I mentioned it, but Hubs is going for his vasectomy in August, and barring some absurd twist of fate, we are done producing offspring!) My babies are growing up fast. And that makes me sad. I want to hold onto her

The real anxiety strikes though when I am boxing up my maternity clothes. I have pre pregnancy clothes that fit me (most of the ones from pre-Zoey do and some are even getting too big on me!) So it’s not that I won’t have anything to wear. But.. has anyone ever notice how awesomely maternity pants hide the little bubbly pooch of stretched out skin that tends to just muffin top with normal pants? Am I the only one self conscious enough to even notice? I know that I should love my body for what it is, and what it has done, and most times I do. In fact, I even joined a Facebook group dedicated to loving the postpartum body! And, as people keep pointing out to me, I am only 1 month postpartum and I can’t seriously expect to have my pre-baby body back. But for some reason, having people be able to see that my body isn’t perfect is causing me a lot of distress. It seems like such a stupid thing to get anxious about, but it seems like there is so much emphasis on how we look that I can’t help but have it consume me.

I seriously thought about keeping a pair or two of maternity pants, but I can see my husband being curious about why I did, and somehow I don’t think my explanation about feeling too fat for normal clothes is going to cut it for him. (Don’t get me wrong he is an awesome guy, he just isn’t really into letting me allow my anxieties to control me, which I can rationally say they would be if I continued wearing maternity pants when I don’t need to be) I guess I can take this as extra motivation to eat healthy, exercise a little more, and drink more water. And of course, continue trying to embrace the pooch of stretched out skin as a memorial to the amazing things my body went through to bring my 3 gorgeous babies into the world!!

Love, hugs and more to come later!


On the road again… soon

It’s that time again. Getting ready to load the kids up in the van and head back out west to visit my family. People think I am insane for choosing to load the 3 kids up to drive 40 hours over 3 days. But, to be honest, I would rather drive across then fly.
When we drive, it’s easy, I can make a list of all the things I need to have in the van and I don’t need to worry about baggage limits, take off times, delays, etc. We can stop when we need to stop, go when the kids are good to go. No time limits. I can pack up toys, snacks, drinks, and a dvd player and we go. When the kids get restless, we pull into a rest stop, pull a ball out and let them run around. And, the best part, if I forget something, I can pull into a store and get whatever it is I need! There are gas stations and Wal-marts everywhere! It’s great.
We try to be smart and do lots of driving early in the morning when the kids are still asleep. The plan is to start driving after Zoey’s 3 am feeding, and go until 8 or so when the boys are ready for breakfast. Then we can go until whenever the kids need to run around a bit. Sometimes this is every hour. Sometimes we can get 2-4 hours out of them before we need to stop. We don’t stress. Who cares if it takes an extra day or two. We’ll get there. No sense stressing and rushing. I enjoy the drive when it’s done at our own pace.
People also seem to think it’s more expensive to drive then to fly. But, right now, for us, it’s the same cost to drive as it is to fly. (2 hotel rooms, gas for the van, and 3 meals a day, not that we eat out every meal + extra money just in case) Soon, when I need to start paying for Nick to fly (and then Zoey) the drive will be almost half the cost of flying! (Flying is EXPENSIVE!)
A week from today we’ll be heading out. I am looking forward to the drive. I made a list of all the lists I need to make. And I started making those lists. (what to pack for the drive, for while we are in Winnipeg, what toys we should bring, what we need to buy, etc etc etc) The lists *might* seem a little… excessive (that’s the word Hubs uses, I prefer words like productive and useful) but, it helps my anxiety and that’s what matters to us.
I’m not sure I am going to get another post in before we head out, or how much I’ll be posting while I am out west, but I shall try and get on here at least a few times! Summer is here!

Love, hugs and more to come later


To My Husband, On Father’s Day

To Hubs,

First off, I know you don’t typically read my blog, but I hope that when I ask you to go read my latest post, you actually do come read this. Second, I know we chose not to exchange anything for mother’s day and father’s day this year, but this isn’t a gift… this is me expressing myself on my blog, which is what I started the blog for. (So there)

Almost 4 years ago I made the decision to move halfway across the country to give our relationship a serious shot, from there things moved quick with you and I and before we knew it we were married and I was telling you that I was pregnant (and not long after, telling you two more times!) I will never forget the look of joy on your face when I told you that I took a test and it was positive, all three times I could see how happy you were to be welcoming a baby into our lives. Seeing that gave me the confidence to face pregnancy head on.

I want to thank you for standing by me through those days and days of morning sickness. When all I would do is lie in bed and all the chores fell to you, when I couldn’t stomach changing the boys diapers and you changed more then your fair share, for rubbing my back every single day so I could sleep. I also want to thank you (again) for searching everywhere for the pretzels I was craving, only to find them and bring them home for me to open the bag, eat one, and let them go stale in the cupboard. And, you know, dealing with my random tearful outbursts over the most mundane things (like the chocolate cream pie not defrosting fast enough)

I remember the day we seen each of the kids on the ultrasound and found out their genders. You were so excited to be having a little boy the first two times, and looked just as excited and yet so scared when we found out Zoey was a girl! My heart swelled watching you watch the ultrasound screen. The love I could see in your face for the little alien baby on the screen was indescribable.  

I remember seeing you hold each of our babies the first time. The joy, the love and the peace I could see. A Daddy welcoming his babies into the world. I tear up just thinking about it. I wish I had a camera to capture that moment (obviously I was far to exhausted to think of that at the time, so instead the images are forever imprinted on my mind for me to enjoy in private, which is perfectly okay with me!) 

I fall more in love with you everyday watching you our kids. The three of them are beyond lucky to have you in their lives. You teach them things that I, as a Mom, just can’t. Like how to build a good train track for their Thomas trains, how to get as dirty as possible in the sand, how to roughhouse without hurting each other. And all the things that I’m not even sure you are conscious of teaching them. You’re teaching them to be confident, self-assured, and proud. They’re watching how you treat me.  They’re watching how you never leave or enter our house without kisses and hugs.  You’re teaching them how to be a great partner.  You’re teaching them about the important treasure that is family.

You are their hero.  They watch everything that you do, learn from everything that you do, and want to do everything that you do.  You are, and will continue to be, a big player in their self-esteem. I couldn’t have picked a better person for my sons to want to be like and my daughter to want in a future husband.  

I want to thank you for supporting me as a stay at home mom and making the sacrifices necessary to make things work as a one income household. I want to thank you for understanding when I have a hard day with the kids and taking over with the kids so I can catch a breather. 

Thank you for being an amazing husband and an even better Daddy. 

Happy Father’s Day


I’m having one of THOSE days

Apparently the thinking things through part of my brain turned off today. After a long night where both Nick and Zoey decided not to sleep, followed by Alex getting up at 545 this morning, my day has been one of THOSE days. You know. Those days where you wonder where the hell all logic and sanity has gone. 
It started off with the decision to let the boys watch a movie in their room when they got up so Hubs and I could catch another half hour or so of sleep. Zoey was still asleep so it seemed like a good idea after the night we had. We sent them in there at about 7. They didn’t wake us up until about 815. Sounds pretty awesome doesn’t it? I thought so until the loud BANG that got Hubs and I out of bed and running across the hall to their room. Oh the site that greeted us. All the clothes out of their dresser and all over the floor. (The bang was a drawer from the dresser hitting the floor) And their curtain was on the floor. They managed to break the curtain rod (that’s the last time I buy the cheapy ones from Walmart. Went and got them a nice sturdy one today!) Thankfully we don’t leave diaper cream or powder in their room. It could’ve been worse.
From there the day seemed to get better. I brought the kids downstairs and got them breakfast and such with no mishaps (I even used the toaster!) We got them all dressed and headed into Fredericton for a curtain rod. When we got home, Hubs ran out for a couple minutes while the kids and I stayed home. I was trying desperately to get pictures to upload for a friend to show her the car seat I was selling and the boys were fighting over trains. So after asking them to PLEASE play quietly for 2 minutes so I could finish on the computer. They listened. They stopped fighting. And played quietly. I glanced up and they had their backs to me and it looked like they were sharing the trains. I took advantage of that and did what I needed to do. Enter Hubs walking in the house. And catching the boys in what they were ACTUALLY doing. Turns out they weren’t playing with trains. They got the canister of formula out of the diaper bag. And dumped it on the floor so they could play in it. Thankfully there was only enough in there for a couple bottles. It wasn’t the container I just bought. Sigh. Let me just say, formula SUCKS to sweep and mop up. It’s sticky and gross.
As if that wasn’t bad enough. I went downstairs to do some laundry. Simple enough task. Right? Not for me. Not today anyways. After almost putting the laundry soap in the dryer I forgot to turn it on. All of Zoey’s sleepers were in there. And I needed one for after her bath. (Of course I discovered this when I went down right before her bath) Thankfully, I had some clean onsies and pants that fit her, so she is wearing clothes.
Now all the kids are in bed. I tided the house. My day seemed to finally be getting a little more productive so I decided to treat myself to a glass of root beer and some chocolate. I went to grab a straw to put into my glass. And instead dropped a dishwasher tablet into my glass. (Who put the freaking dishwasher tabs next to the straws anyways??) Yummy Stuff. Glad I didn’t drink it.
Now I am going to sit and watch TV while I drink a glass of (non dishwasher soap flavored) Root Beer and eat chocolate. After a day like today, I deserve it. Hump day indeed!

Love, hugs and more to come later


The Postpartum Life

This post is one I have been thinking about writing for a few days. I quite honestly don’t know where to start. After giving birth, your body changes. Fast. Drastically. In a big way. It’s overwhelming. It’s scary. It’s depressing. 

After I gave birth to Nick, Hubs went right back to work. He wasn’t going to take any parental leave. I could handle two kids on my own. It couldn’t be that different from having just Alex. I was wrong. Within a month Hubs was home with us. I couldn’t do it. (It takes a lot to admit this) Anytime the kids cried, I had anxiety attacks. If only one of them cried, no problem. But put them together and I shut down. Hubs came home one day to find the three of us sitting on the floor in the playroom crying. He’d noticed that there was something off with me since I had the baby, he just wasn’t sure what. He went on parental the next morning to give me the support I obviously needed at home, and sent me into my Dr to talk about what was happening. The Dr diagnosed me with mild postpartum depression and moderate postpartum anxiety. Hubs and I did some research, we talked, and we coped with it. I started taking birth control to help regulate my hormones. I started going out once a week to interact with people. I had an amazing photographer take boudoir photos of me (amazingly it helped. A lot. I started feeling better. Then we decided we wanted another baby.

When we made the decision to have a third baby, I was excited. I couldn’t wait. Things were going so great with our family, but I felt like something was missing in our lives. Once we made the decision we wanted another baby, we knew that we needed to talk about what we could do differently this time around to make the postpartum period easier. We talked for a long time about the circumstances around Nick’s birth. We realized we had a lot of negative people in our lives. I decided I needed to get those people out of my life. So I did. Anytime someone was super negative about our situation (for example, criticizing our choice to have a third baby) I removed them from my Facebook. I got my friends list down from over 200 people to 70 people. We were excited to be expecting Zoey and my pregnancy progressed.
Throughout my pregnancy, there were a few ‘episodes’ when I would have anxiety attacks, but overall I was controlling it well and I was optimistic that things were going to be better. I was over it. It went away. Turns out depression and anxiety don’t really just ‘go away’ they are always there. In the background. Watching. Waiting. For the opportunity to present itself. When I had Zoey, I felt great. The delivery was easy compared to the boys, my recovery was fast. But my body. It was so so so so so different. Even more different then when I had the boys. The stretch marks. The saggy-ness. It was depressing. I know that it won’t look like this forever, rationally. But my rational self is on a shelf that I can’t reach right now. Leaving me very irrational. Leaving me feeling anxious about things I shouldn’t feel anxious about. I know I don’t need to worry about what my body looks like. Stretch marks and saggy-ness is to be expecting after having a baby, especially after having 3 back to back babies. I mean, I’ve already lost 30 lbs. I am doing good for having just had Zoey 3 weeks ago.
My body isn’t the only thing causing me anxiety. There are other things too. Things that, rationally, I don’t need to be anxious about. But I can’t control it. At all. It consumes me. So it’s all I can think about. But I don’t doubt my parenting. I know I am a good Momma. I doubt how great of a wife I am being lately. I doubt a lot of things about myself. But never my role as a Mother. That’s gotta be an improvement right?
I am going to see the Dr later this week. I know there is something wrong and that I need help. Hubs and I have talked about it. And now I have made it even more real by writing it here. The reason I wanted to write this, is because after I had Nick and was going through this originally, I felt alone. Anxiety and depression seem to be taboo topics to talk about. They shouldn’t be. They are real. And the people who feel them are real too. And we all deserve to be listened to. I don’t feel so alone now, I have found a support system. And that helps. A lot.

Love, hugs, and more to come later


I JUST WANT MY COFFEE… preferably while it’s still hot!

This morning I just needed coffee. Zoey had me up at 530 for a feeding, decided to stay up for about an hour and wouldn’t you know it, the boys woke up just after I put her in her bed and lied down to go back to sleep. Ah the life of a Momma of 3 young ones. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could just drink my coffee. (Which I am doing now as I type, but it’s rather cold already)

Usually I can make the boys their breakfast, sit them at the table and I can make my coffee and drink it. While it’s hot. But this morning wasn’t like that. This morning I needed to put laundry in while the boys ate, so I ran into the basement and got that started THEN came up and made a coffee. Then as I sat down to drink it Nick decided to throw his plate on the floor resulting in it breaking. (Normally he uses plastic plates, but apparently when I loaded the dishwasher last night I neglected to turn it on, so it was glass or nothing this morning) By the time I got it all cleaned up, the kids were done breakfast and decided that climbing on mom was a good idea. I am pretty talented, but not talented enough to drink a semi hot coffee with two toddlers climbing on me. Which leads me to now, drinking a cold coffee while the boys watch Max and Ruby. Tomorrow  am going to turn treehouse on before I try to drink my coffee. Maybe then I can drink it while it’s hot. Until then I am going to continue drinking my cold coffee and pretend I am enjoying it. At least caffeine is effective regardless of the temperature of it! 


Love, hugs and more to come later